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Fylariea Talvethren
"In Mac'aree, there lived a man, a man with yellow eyes. To me he said; 'ware the whispers, for they whisper lies.' 'Do not wrestle with the demons of the dark, lest upon your mind they place a mark.' 'Do not listen to the shadows of the deep, else they haunt you even when you sleep.' ... I made the mistake of listening." History and Background "The Talvethren household was strange; Gaerolas Talvethen was a secretive man at the best of times. And yet, one day, he has a girl with him, who he introduced as his daughter. Yet, he was never mated, and I've delivered every child in Nighthaven - she was not one of them." ''-Ere'lara Swiftmoon, Nighthaven midwife'' Birth and Early Childhood: A Tradgedy in Vitro Born to a small household in the Night Elven city of Nighthaven, in the Moonglade, Fylariea Talvethren was one of the last Kaldorei children of her generation to be born outside of the great tree of Teldrassil, the Kaldorei's newest creation. Her sire, Gaerolas Talvethren, lost his mate during the painful process of her birth. To this day, Fyl's mother has yet to be named in record or by witnesses. Perhaps due to the trauma of the time, not many records were kept that documented this time, besides the vague census counts that Darnassus conducted bi-annually. With such a large city as Nighthaven was, there were very few witnesses to Fyl's birth and fewer who knew her or her father in person. Of those who did, most described the entire family unit as aloof and distant, with an air of professionalism around everything that went on. Gaerolas became a cold, unfeeling machine. It wasn't long before he petitioned the Cenarion Circle and requested reassignment to the newly grown hometree; in an attempt to breathe life into the emotionally 'dead' family, the request was approved. In mid-August, the Talvethren household packed up their most personal belongings and moved into the newly settled village of Starbreeze, taking up residence there. Starbreeze: The Sanctuary "Fyl was always the introverted kid - (she) never really seemed to like 'people' much. She spent all night in the woods, or thinking up pranks to pull on unsuspecting villagers..." ''-Serana Shadowmoon, Shadowglen Attendee and previous resident of Starbreeze.'' When Gaerolas and Fylariea arrived in the budding village of Starbreeze, with the latter being around only six or seven at the time, the community there welcomed them with open arms. Gaerolas immersed himself in his work as the Grand Warden of the Bane'thil Barrow Dens, while his daughter took on a more communal raising then her prior, private parentage had been. It took a while for her to warm up to the villagers, but after a time she became the epitome of what a child 'should have been' - bubbly, kind, and generally positive. In contrast to this, though, she spent much of her time out in the wilds, exploring the new landscape and abusing her freedom. As she grew, she exhibited more and more 'rebellious' traits, quickly becoming less of a model child in favor of the fine arts of mischief and intellect. The moment she became literate, she fell in love with books - and she read, read at every oppurtunity. Rare was it to spot her without a lengthy tome under-arm or a hefty scroll in-hand. Though her father often kept to himself in their sizable dwelling in the village, he seemed to brighten as the years passed - never becoming truly amiable beyond what business demanded of him with the other villagers, but decidedly brightening up whenever Fylariea was around. Oftentimes, people overheard him refer to his daughter with affectionate nicknames such as 'little lamp' and 'small fawn' in Darnassian. Fyl herself adored her father, keeping by his side whenever he was on leave at all times. He was absent for months at a time - and she well made up for that time apart by being present to support her father, always. Meanwhile, with everyone else, she rapidly grew from the tiny tot into the troublesome teen. Pranks became common, and her thoughts rapidly radicalized, leaving her with more then a few controversial and untraditional opinions. Though never directly punished, these opinions were heavily discouraged and stifled - which made her fight for them all the more, perhaps out of some sort of childish stubbornness. This behavioral pattern only continued as she aged. Some loved her, and some hated her, but the vast majority began to see her simply as an object in existence. In truth, she was just growing into another elf, completing the ever-lengthy circle of birth, life and death. That changed with a single fateful night. On the eve of the twenty-first of November, the Gnarlpine spontaneously invaded the village, catching all of the villagers completely off guard. For years, the Gnarlpine had coexisted with the Kaldorei in peace; they traded things the Kaldorei felt too primitive to attend to massively enough to feed the entire village, such as raw fish and gutted animals. Diplomacy had never been less then impeccable with the bear people - combat with the elves was unheard of. As it happened, Gaerolas Talvethren was home with his daughter the evening of the attack. He was one of the first to rush to the village's defense, along with the scant sentinels that lived there. He hid his daughter in one of his alchemical alcoves before he left, making sure to give his final order for her to stay put, no matter what, until he returned. He never returned for her. And indeed, none of the villagers came to retrieve her. Not that, of course, they would have realized what Gaerolas had done or where Fyl had gone even if if they'd been alive to ponder it. The entire village of Starbreeze was exterminated systematically that night. The only survivor was the girl in the cupboard, who only survived because she obeyed her father's final order. Left there for a day and a half, she had no sustenance or entertainment; and indeed, it is a nigh-miracle that Fyl did not try to eat one of the alchemical ingredients that surrounded her, or drink from one of the potion bottles she was shoved against. Had she done so, perhaps her story would have tragically ended there. It did not. Shadowglen: The New(er) Home "Thero'shan Talvethren was, without a doubt, probably the most literarily astute student we'd ever taught. She devoured her studies... (with) abandon, and she was perhaps the best spellcaster we'd ever met. Had the Shen'dralar been accepted back into our society at the time of her training, she would have undoubtedly been a mage... but alas, they were not, and she was instead inducted into druidism. Many have considered that a mistake." -Erethor Ithalaine, Shan'do of Shadowglen. The wait that Fyl endured in the cupboard she was hidden in is undeniably described as 'hellish'. Stuck in one postion in a cramped place for a day and then some, she dared not move and make noise that might draw Gnarlpine attention, she was left without a place to defecate, much less food or water to sate her hunger with. Her savior came in the form of another druid - one of her father's friends in Dolanaar acquired the aid of an adventurer to go check on her father, as he failed to return to his duties at the Bane'thil Barrow Dens. The heroic feral fought their way through the Gnarlpine, and managed to sniff the spoilt form of Fyl out. When discovered, she was briefly questioned before she was escorted to the Shadowglen, taking refuge from the horrors in a place of safety and training. The druid soon left her in the care of her first-ever Shan'do - Erethor Ithalaine, an elf responsible for training many of the brightest young elves of the century. The Shan'dos of Shadowglen originally objected to Fylariea's prescence and attempted to put her up for an adoptive custody system, but when that failed she was slowly integrated into the educational system. What was for some a university became her home, and Ithalaine was as close to a 'foster parent' as she had. Through him, she was inducted into the ways of druidism. Her progress was abnormal and spontaneous - she seemed to devour books in single nights, often surrounded by the overpowering berry-scent of arcane and a hint of sand. Most simply wrote it off as her natural scent, though some were slightly suspicious. None really investigated it further, though. A scant decade or so passed in Shadowglen, the days and months and years blending together into a single, uninterrupted stream of study. Fyl gave herself completely to her books and to her duties; she took in knowledge with an eagerness almost unprecedented. After a long while, her skills were toned enough to be classified - she eventually failed out of her physical shapeshifting studies, but in spellcasting and magical theory (among other logical studies) she excelled. Linguistics was always an interest, as were the stars and astronomic phenomena - when her Rite of Passage came and it was time for her to choose a path to follow, she chose the totem of the Moon. With that done, she was officially graduated from Shadowglen, and sent out into the world to find herself. Kalimdor: ADHD Child's Playground "We tried to get Fylariea to sign on with a respectable profession... the Sentinels were recruiting in the face of the Legion's newest threat, after all, or she could have gone to aid the druids in the Dreamgrove. But no... she chose -mercenary work-. Why? I don't know. Maybe she wanted the freedom?" ''-Kyndillea Moonsong, Fyl's friend/peer'' With Fylariea's remarkable intellect and skill in linguistics, one would expect her to go and obtain a job suitable for one of her talents - perhaps scribework, or some other literary profession. Inscription, enchanting... but no. Instead, she took up the title of... mercenary. Freedom was liberating - for a short-lived spurt, anyway. She quickly lost much of her motivation and interest in doing her work, and frequently strayed from her contracts to explore her own interests (which fluctuated enough to be whatever caught her eye at the time.) Her clientèle quickly learned to set decided boundaries on her contracts, lest she lose interest and stray from the task. With that added into place, she began to bring in livable coin. Nothing rich or overly zealous, but enough that she was able to afford rent at an inn and, eventually, afford her own modest flat within the confines of the elven capital. She garnered a smallish circle of friends during this time, mostly consisting of the variuos clientelle she had helped in the beginning. They helped her by serving as references for various mercenary jobs she took over time. On the side, she took some odd jobs to work with animals and animal life. First, she practiced her affinities for charming animals; then, she made some odd coin from first training small pets for pet battles and then eventually larger sums from aiding hunters. It was not uncommon to find her during her off hours with stellar charms wafting about her as she kept some unruly beast in a more impressionable state for local hunters of the time. Darkshore and Teldrassil were her primary focuses for contracts, rarely straying outside those territories. Eventually, though, as is her childish wont, she began to tire of the purple trees and chaotic order of the wilds in their purest form. Turning her focus east, she began to study of the cultures of the Alliance; in particular, those of humans. A few months, and she signed aboard a vessel known as The Bravery. Not long passed before they set off, carrying their cargo (and more importantly, passengers) to the great capital of the Alliance: Stormwind City. Stormwind City: The City of Vice and Sin "Oh, Elune. Stormwind. Well, at least it's not Goldshire, am I right, lads?" ''-Fylariea Talvethren'' Fylariea's journey to Stormwind took a good four months - a fast journey, truth be told, as weather conditions near the Maelstrom can change how long it takes to get to the Eastern Kingdoms. When finally she set foot upon the pier for the first time, it only took a single breath and look around to fall in love with this new vista. The human city was fascinating - here was a different approach to handling nature. Here, everything was ordered with cut stones, with nature struggling to regain what it had lost and failing. She spent her first few nights essentially homeless before she found a proper inn - not that she minded. Sleeping out in the 'wilds' had never felt safer - even outside the walls, the stone was an oddly comforting presence. Immediately after her arrival, she set about finding work in Stormwind to bolster her dwindling funds - mercenary work is and was still plentiful, and a group known as the Freemen of Azeroth happily took her in. She rose through their ranks at an almost unbelievable rate, obtaining an officership position within the first few weeks with the company. It seemed like a dream come true - until she realized she was doing all of the work for the leadership, and not receiving her due. Confronting the leadership about this led to her expulsion from the company - starting a long chain of similar events. The very next group she signed up with was a group known only to the general public as the Dragon's Candle. For months, Fylariea simply disappeared from history - her friends knew naught where she'd gone, only noting her abscence. When she returned, a new 'friend' in tow, she seemed notably a completely different person. It's hard to say what happened to her within their ranks, but it's known she left not long after returning to Stormwind. The Mage Quarter became her sanctuary; she wandered it for weeks on end. Many friends were made within the confines of the district, as well as enemies - yet, she still managed to stay under the radar of the general public whilst she pursued her own endeavors. The Silver Rose Alliance, Kal Thalah, the Anu Zin, even the Kaldorei Initiative themselves - among others, there was a long list of repeated organizational failure and banishment. Frustrated, Fylariea eventually formed her own group known as the Starbreeze Renaissance. Unfortunately, it seemed none truly wished to help her regain and rebuild the lands she'd lost to the Gnarlpine so long ago, and she was forced to admit defeat, disbanding the group a scant month or so after she'd made it. She finally found her refuge, though it took far longer then she'd hoped; the noble organization of Kalnor'anaar took her under their wing. Lady E'nyssea had been watching Fyl from afar, as is her wont, and when she became available approached her with a tentative job offer. Though put off by the Highborne's snotty attitude and the egotists that surrounded her, she reluctantly accepted. This occupation only lasted her a few months, and it was reapplied to after she briefly left to make her own fortunes (Promptly followed by failure.) Her nomadic organization hopping was prelavent in her lifestyle. The Second War Against the Emerald Nightmare "The Emerald Nightmare is a cancer on the purity of the Dream. It is everything we as mortals fight against, every living moment. It is our torment, our stress and agony. It is corruption, in purest form... fel in the sense that it feeds off the suffering of sentient life. We will purge it, or be purged." -''Archdruid Isoraen Nightstar, to the Druids of the Dreamgrove before embarking into the Nightmare proper.'' As most druids were at the beginning of the latest invasion of the Burning Legion, Fylariea was called into service by the druids of the Dreamgrove, doing her part in the long and arduous campaign against the Emerald Nightmare. She took up studying the mysteries of astromancy further under the Archdruid of the Moon, Isoraen Nightstar, eventually idolizing the sect so much that she herself became a traditional Druidess of the Moon, adopting the uniform and the signature scythes they loved so much. Fylariea's command of astral magic was enough to rival those who had studied the art for years; however, she was not content with the clear-cut, simple spells like sunfire and moonfire. She made sure to put her own spin on each spell she learned, exploring it's capabilities and combinations throughly. Time does not properly pass in the Dream, where most of the war was being waged; she was capable of revolutionizing and mastering her arsenal of spells to leverage against the crimson of the Nightmare by the time she returned to Azeroth. While it was only a few months, to an outsider who had not stepped foot in the Dream, in the timeless hold of that verdant realm there is no way to know for sure how long percieved time was stretched. What is known is when Fylariea returned, she returned with exponentially increased power and multifold understanding of the nature of magic as a whole. She lays claim to the slaying of countless creatures, including, at her apex, helping purge the Emerald Dreamway of the Nightmare spread by the dragon Ysondre and her nightmare kin. While others focused instead on purging Mulgore, or going into the Rift of Aln, Fylariea and her assosciated druidkin were focused on slaying the mighty wyrms and purging the Dreamway of corruption. While Fylariea never stepped foot in the Rift, and was only a piece of a larger whole, it is undeniable that the death of Ysondre, at least, had reasonable credence to be attributed to Fylariea and her wild magic. There was a saying about Fylariea, during this time; 'The first thing you notice about the Shade of the Wilds is that she appears innocent, carefree. For the enemies of life, it may also be their last.' Fearmongerers whispered of what they had seen her do, and warned against what she might become. As it stood, however, she was a fine, druidic prodigy, and such warnings never held much credence. She went on to combat the Burning Legion, first on Azeroth before finally following many of her order to the twisted lands of Argus itself, combating the horrors of the Legion -- and the ever-lurking Void -- while learning more about the nature of her magic, and even exploring the mysteries of the stars, close enough to touch... She never stepped foot on the charred frame of mighty Antorus, but she felt Eonar's cosmic call to all for aid at Elunaria. While incapable of helping directly, she one day hopes to follow the cosmic beacon and visit the home of the Lifebinder. After returning home to Stormwind, she looked forward to an unprecedented period of peace and cooperation between the Horde and Alliance, seeking the defeat of the Legion, perhaps foolishly, as the start of a new era, a golden era that she had, in her narcissism, viewed to have helped create. What came to pass was no victory. The War of Thorns and Subsequent Battles "They will burn. They will -all- burn. We will reap their bodies and stack them into a cairn to rival the World Tree. And then, and ONLY THEN, will we set it alight, to put the Horde to its' foul rest." ''-Fylariea Talvethren, in response to Teldrassil and in rage.'' In the time between the end of the Legion and the Battle for Wildbend River, Fylariea explored herself further, learning more about how she related to her magic and cataloging her desires more clearly, as well as settling down into a relatively stable lifestyle. Eventually, she parted ways with the mysterious phases of the Moon and instead found her love closer to home -- in worship of the heavens, yes, but she had always been looking -through- what she loved. What she loved, perhaps more then anything else, was the sky. She relished the freedom the sky brought her, and every moment she flew under the star-spangled heavens was a blessing to be savored. Eventually, her love for the open air drew her to Skycaller Faeb, who was setting out on her long journey to teach other druids the form of the Lunarwing Owl, which Archdruid Rensar Greathoof had previously mastered. She was a part of the second wave to bond successfully with their lunarwing, and, after interacting in close proximity with the Talon for so long, she decided to explore their ideals. It decidedly did her some good; the peace of Aviana's Druids of the Talon helped mellow out the druidess's very extravagant habits and violent tendencies when she didn't get her way. They molded her from a loud, boisterous hatchling into a beautiful, pristine figure. She rose through their ranks, first as a Skysea Wanderer, and then a Starcaller, later being promoted to one of Aviana's Talonguard (Albeit the reserve forces.) When the Horde invaded Ashenvale, the Druids of the Claw were the first line of defense that bolstered the wisp wall -- but behind them, the Druids of the Talon worked. Scouting, cartographing, helping coordinate and carry messages; and when the Battle for Wildbend finally commenced, the Druids of the Talon were there, using hot coals to bomb the Horde from above. Fylariea herself, however, took a far more active role. Putting her training as a Moon to good use, she took the roll of a Starcaller to a whole new level, holding a swathe of the river on her own and firing off magnificent, beautiful patterns at the oncoming grunts. If they were not entranced by the patterns, then they were not deft enough to evade them. The outcome was the same; Fylariea's casts were a patterned, bullet-hell-esque swirl of death. She was commended with numerous Marks of Honor for her work... which she promptly got rid of, sickened by the reminder of the incidents. When the Horde broke through Wildbend, Fylariea fought bitterly to try and hold them at Lor'danel, but it was no use. She retreated to Darnassus at the bequest of her commanders, who decided to shut down the portal gateway up into Teldrassil. At first, it seemed as if it were to be a siege, and then an occupation... And then. Then, the World Tree, Azeroth's precious Crown, was set on fire. Here, Fylariea was almost entirely useless. Smoke rises, and so do birds -- flying wasn't helping anyone. She tried to use magic to clear the air, and managed to evacuate a handful of people before she, too, was forced to accept defeat and fled through the mages' portals. She chose not to attend the Tournament of Ages that year. The shock was too great, and the pain resonated throughout all the Kaldorei, Fylariea included. At the Siege of Lordaeron, Fylariea assisted in the invasion of the city. Fortunately, she was not in the city at the time of the Plague being unleashed... instead, she was high above, performing bombing runs for Gnomish engineers. Fylariea's presence immediately after was diverted to a great disturbance in the west when she returned to Stormwind. After reporting to her commander, she diverted course from the city and set out on a long flight to the island of Kul Tiras, where she promptly began to investigate odd happenings in Drustvar. The Order of Starbreeze In memory of Teldrassil and her long-destroyed village, Starbreeze, Fylariea took a vow she made to herself long ago to heart. With those incidents as shining examples of history repeating itself at an exponential level, Fylariea formed an Order, aptly named the Order of Starbreeze. After learning the Sentinels had refused to aid Starbreeze because it was an 'acceptable' loss, and after interacting with some poor souls the priestesses had deemed 'beyond saving', Fylariea decided that she was not going to stand by any longer. If no one else would, then -she- would. She dedicated the Order of Starbreeze to defending those deemed expendable, saving those deemed beyond such, and razing any who would dare attempt to prey on such poor souls. She made it her mission, that Teldrassil and Starbreeze Village would never again be fates shared by any settlement in the future. Temple Incident The "Temple Incident" is an event that Fyl is slightly infamous for among many of Teldrassil's citizens. She sat in on a study group as her friends were learning to charm animals, and she followed along, excited at how 'well' she was doing. With her inflated sense of ego, she went home that night and snuck out after her curfew, planning to charm an animal for a pet. Unfortunately, she didn't realize that the constraining dimensions for the spell were the hard part, not the actual casting. She ended up casting the spell and charming a few hundred critters around her. This use of magic caused her eye-veil to flare-and badly, too. She ended up blinded for a few days until it settled down. In her panic, she ran from the huge vibrations in the ground as animals stampeded toward her. She ran from outside Starbreeze all the way to the Temple of the Moon in Darnassus. Many were present to witness the event at the time, and although their accounts differ slightly, many regard the entire event as ridiculously hilarious. The priestesses didn't exactly find it so, and neither did the sentinels, as this little girl ran into the Temple, weeping in terror and pain, screaming for Elune's mercy with her eyes on fire. The animals trampled the grounds, all of them cramming into the temple-right as the spell wore off. The animals, of course, panicked-predators and prey were all packed together like sardines-and the Temple staff had to subdue the whole lot of them, and many of the then-lower-ranked Sentinels were in charge of cleaning up the animals'... messes.. Needless to say, Fylariea was banned from the Temple until she finished her druidic training. The event is barely remembered today, as the rumors about it died out. Only the ones who were present remember, and likely, and most of those would not remember Fylariea at first glance. Physical Description Physiognomy Standing proud despite a slight stature of five feet and eight inches, Fylariea is Kaldorei only in the barest sense of the word. Her skin is several tones lighter then the majority of her race, taking on a far more tan tone then the classical deep purples of her people - her eyes are a brilliant, opaque munsel, the glow bright enough and self-sustaining so that they seem like flashlights in the dark. They notably dim and brighten whenever Fylariea experiences intense surges of emotion or apathy - an odd trait that many have commented on and have never received a straight answer for. The tone of her flesh and the color of her hair varies -- without any outside influence, the elf's skin is a pale pink and her hair is a luscious emerald color, but her appearance changes depending on a variety of variables, including the season, what she's wearing, her mood, the climate, and fatigue. Despite her odd skin tone, she seems completely unmarred by hair or scars - her hands are soft and barely calloused, muscle toned with enough padding so as to not stand out in stark contrast to her form. Ungarbed, one might compare her to a wildcat - lithe, and though small decidedly strong enough to strike and fight with ferocity. She carries herself with some measure of poise - but not much, as she'd much rather cock her weight to the side and relax rather then keep herself straight up and 'proper'. It is undeniable that she moves with feline grace, but it seems to be so because it is calculated; as if motion was not her primary function. The classical elven ears she holds on the sides of her head are abnormally long, as if compensating for her height with batlike appendages. They curve to graceful knife-tips, expressive falchions that raise and lower with mood and attention. These curve inwards to frame her face - bubbly and perhaps a bit childish, as if she's not quite outgrown her baby fat yet. Sharp angles are absent from her features, soft curves swooping over her face to smooth out those. Beauty can be used as a descriptor by some - though some would certainly consider her too alien and too youthful to fit such a matronly description. The smooth features extend from her facial construction to her frame - indeed, she's not as overly expressive with her body as many of her kin are. Her bust is hardly worth the mention, chest rather boardlike - hips and bottom nothing to speak of out of the ordinary. Antlers break the sea of deceptive softness that is her hair -- varying in size depending on season, they cradle the symbol of the Lady and Child between them, in much the same way that a Lunarwing frames their symbol; with the crescent of the Lady arched protectively over the circle of the Child. Apparel Fylariea takes a measure of pride on her garb - that is, she has strandards of coverage. Though usually wreathing herself in leathers and furs and sometimes cloth, she will go to great lengths to keep herself appropriately covered. The 'traditional' garb excuse that many women use to show off their bodies is found distateful, and she will adequately cover her form from prying eyes. Her choice of garments, whatever they may be, seem primarily designed for first comfort and then practicality. Druidic adornments such as furs and feathers are commonly included, but she is not the sort to lose sleep over the breach in uniform. Her preferred color schemes incorporate purples and bronze/gold into the design, but she is commonly seen in other chromatic scales as well. She avoids heavy armor like the plague. She will -never- be caught in plate or maille if there is a reasonable alternative. Some accuse her of being incapable of wearing such - her defense is that she doesn't believe in operating seventy pounds of metal and still being 'fight worthy'. Perhaps there's some wisdom to the statement - after all, she hasn't died yet... Adornments are scant, but there is a singular piece that she always wears, one with great sentimental value - her choker. Shaped of bronze gears on a simple leather strap, a chain is threaded between the mechanical pieces. On this chain is hung a collection of charms and likewise similar things - a hearthstone, purple crystals, a dreamcatcher made of emerald... all of them are charms from either her father or a lover. Weaponry and Armaments Though to the casual observer, Fylariea's weaponry might seem many-fold and constantly changing, a more careful inquirer would quickly learn that there are only three weapons in her personal arsenal - two of which with a substantial backstory, especially for such a simple thing as a weapon. It has been argued that perhaps all of her weapons are in actuality the SAME weapon, simply changing forms, as she is never seen with two different weapon types; however, this is not the case, as is evidenced by anyone with the power to investigate such claims. Stellar and nature magic, athames, a scythe as long as she is tall, horridly spiked and vicious claw-gauntlets - Fylariea sports enough weaponry at any given moment to be classified as a weapon of mass destruction. Proficient at least to an extent with all of these, she much prefers to use magic as her primary form of offense and defense. Animal Forms The repertoire of creatures that Fyl has acquired over her years of training is quite expansive. Combining her natural use of charms with charisma, she's managed to sway some druidic animals from their places, and some even that do not heed the call of the Dream. Speech in most of these is impossible, - insead, she broadcasts her thoughts to those around her. There is no need for a connection - it simply speaks her thoughts to the area around her in . Fylariea, like most druids, has a bear form. Unlike most druids, however, her 'bear' form is hardly a bear at all. Resulting as an assignment given to her by Archdruid Greathoof to quell her hatred of the furbolg as a species due to the destruction of Starbreeze Village, her constant combative nature and overall hostility to the ursine folk made her a rapidly disliked figure with the furbolg tribes that she visited. After a while, Fylariea caught the attention of the Grizzlemaws' resident Ursa Totemic. The creature was infuriated by the reports of Fylariea's hatred and her toxic nature, and challenged her to an honor brawl, to end only when the other submitted. The creature overpowered the nascent druidess with ease -- ursa totemics are known to rip dragons limb from limb; no form or magic Fylariea could employ could slow the massive, hulking creature. She was forced into submission, but the totemic granted her mercy -- and then offered to lend the elf his strength, so that she could truly understand the furbolg rather then hate them. Respect for strength and honor in combat was all he asked in return; Fylariea took the form, then, and saw the world through his eyes as they worked in unison. Now, her hatred for the furbolg has dulled in the wake of understanding; and the totemic, true to his promise, lends his form when called upon. When he is unavailable, Fylariea falls back on a bear that also hails from the Grizzly Hills; while not as strong nor as resilient as the totemic, her 'backup' is far from incapable by itself. Fylariea's feral form has two separate aspects, depending on how much effort she is putting into maintaining it at the time. While she does technically have a 'true' cat form, a lovely blue-fur saber from Darkshore whom she made friends with while she did odd-jobs here and there, more recently she's learned to harness the pure 'stellar' imiation form she made for battle against the Emerald Nightmare and, using methods taught to her by the Thornspeakers, has taken to emulating their wicker and bramble forms, essentially coating herself in bark and branches. The noble form of the owlbear is one that many a druid of balance strive to obtain, and Fylariea is no exception. However, she lacks the patience needed to deal with them, and unfortunately more often then not gives up within the first few days of pursuit. The moonkin do not look kindly upon her for this, and thus she has never been blessed with a form of theirs. Instead, she's learned to wreath herself in astral energies, accomplishing much the same effect at the cost of far more effort and concentration. When in astral form, logic is all - it is hard to feel emotion, expierience social limits; everything is simply black and white, titanic and ethereal. This makes her cold, unfeeling - something that can persist for hours after she comes out of the form. Perhaps second to the owlbear in reverence, the treant is a long-sought after form of druids everywhere. Being made of plant life itself, it is no suprise that it can bolster healing spells - which Fyl needs all the help she can get from nature in that endeavor. She is infamously bad at healing, never one for such - at least in a treant form, it is manageable. The same problem presents itself with wth her treant form as with her astral form, however, and the golden-leaved, yellow barked treant is rarely if ever put to good use. The pride, and joy, of Fylariea's animal menagerie is the majestic form of the Lunarwing. Sacred messenger birds of Aviana, supposedly sent by Elune herself to carry her words, the Lunarwing is a form that has only recently been mastered by the Archdruid Rensar Greathoof. Next in line to learn the sacred form were a select few - and the volunteers who eagerly followed their progress. Fylariea was among those eager followers who aspired to deepen her connection to Elune through the holy form. Ashen gray with night trailing off of her wingtips, her lunarwing form is, undeniably, -beautiful-. The feathers are unimaginably plush and soft, and her wingtips trail misty darkness speckled with twinkling silver, as if she were carving the night itself. Regal antlers stretch up and back from her head, and cradled between them is the druidic symbol of the Lady and the Child. Her more simple-minded forms both hail from Kul Tiras, as well. Previously, she was bound to an orca and a greatstag, but now she has earned the respect of other creatures, creatures she is eager to explore the capabilities of. First comes the Midden Doe, from Tiragarde Sound; the magnificent doe stands tall and proud, and is covered in a soft layer of greyish-purple velvet-fur. Her antlers are not present, but the beast moves at a prodigious speed and can leap incredible distances. Sure-footed and fast, she uses this form whenever she must cross treacherous terrain on foot, or cover vast distances on land and flying is not an option. The other form she has recently gained the respect of is that of the Tideskipper Dolphin. Hailing from the waters around Kul Tiras, the dolphin she is bound to is a chatty fellow named Fin. Incredibly intelligent and socially acute, he lends his form to Fylariea whenever she wishes to explore his watery world, happy to have someone to share and socialize with aside from his pod. Personality Records and Accounts Underlying Personality Summary Fylariea's personality is a mindset of masks; a many-fold, layered expression. Like an iceberg, the majority of the elf's mind is out of view from the rest of the world. She seems almost incapable of expressing more then one side of her at any given moment -- the elf is rather like a thousand-sided dice, floating in an immeasurably large pool of ink. At any given time, one face breaches the surface, but the other facets of her personality are hidden underneath. The druidess's mask has many different layers; every face and personality she takes has been reworked many times. She imitates what she sees working with other people - subtly manipulating the world by pursuing proven paths to reach her goals, whether or not the path she follows is one she truly feels comfortable treading. Relentless, cunning, manipulative, and conscience-low, the elf will do just about anything to reach her endgame; if it is necessary to fulfill her aims, she considers the path taken to her self-defined 'victory' to be ammoral. That doesn't mean she has no drive to be a 'good person', or to be perceived as a good person. She views it as easier to get what you want if you are well-liked, and does her best to be kind to whomever she meets. This ought not to be interpreted as genuine care, however - because although she might pretend, the elf is remarkably low on empathy and largely views the general populace as insufferable idiots; not that she'd ever say that to their faces. Very few make it to her 'inner circle', but those that do have her dedicated loyalty and care... until they screw it up. A long life spent making friends that do not share her longetivity has given rise to perhaps the most defining trait of the elf's personality - that fear of being abandoned, of being alone and unwanted. While it does not surface quite as often as it once did, anymore, she does not take well to being 'abandoned'; it drives her into a nearly psychotic state, paranoid and fear-fueled hate spewing from every orifice until she is reassured that she is not alone. If one were to put Fylariea's mind into a physical form, they would likely describe a landscape filled with ashes and ruins - with perhaps dead plants here and there. Her thoughts are reminiscent of a very large, empty continent with shattered, chaotic sections that might be ten feet higher or lower then the land they border. Some might assume it to be a hellscape, firey and agonizing -- but she is actually quite calm most of the time, and despite the majority of her mind being desolate, it is wasteland, not an apocalyptic reflection. It bears the somber peace of the aftermath of a great war, or an immeasurably large storm - a battlefield where the only one left standing was Fylariea herself, because everyone else had fallen. Known Combative Abilities Many people underestimate the combative abilities of druids. The common misconception is that all druids are tree-hugging, pacifistic half-wits who like to grow flowers and hug animals. While that is certainly the case for -some- druids, it is called a misconception for a reason. Druidic magic, by definition, is nature magic; in some cases, even dabbling in the arcane to balance it out, in the case of the astral arts. Nature magic is far more expansive then simply growing flowers; for example, it controls the elements, as well. Fylariea herself is living proof of there being more to your average druid then tree-hugging and animal-loving - while not especially powerful, the elf is intelligent, cunning, and extremely versatile, as any good druid ought to be. The most accurate classification of Fylariea Talvethren is as a Subversive. The most common technique for combat assosciated with druids is shapeshifting - becoming great sabercats, massive bears, and other assorted beasts of the wilds to stalk the shadows and pounce on unsuspecting foes, or defend the weak, even carve incredible paths of destruction through the battlefield. Fylariea takes this a step further, employing the relatively unknown art of shapemending - that is, healing -through- the Dreamshift that results in a druid's transformation. In addition, her list of animal forms is far more expansive then that of your traditional Cenarion druid. If one has ever been unfortunate enough to face a fully trained druid in combat who did not specialize in shapeshifted combat, they would have likely been on the unfortunate recieving end of moonfire, solar wrath, or starsurges; all traditional, relatively staple druidic spells. Fylariea employs her creativity here, most of all; manipulating magic unbound by set spells and instead choosing to create her own form and bound for her magic. Whether she be hurling arcane that would make a mage do a double take and reassess her classification or pouring enough nature magic into conjured solar power that it might as well be literal stellar plasma, Fylariea's magic is as distinctive as she is and almost invariably deadly in intent. For the magic that is not inherently or immediately deadly, Fylariea chooses to exercise extraneous cruelty and sadism. Using the pure force of life in a directly ironic mirror on the usual stereotype, she channels nature magic into roots and vines - except they are not intended to root. She usually modifies their growth slightly, so that they possess bladelike thorns along their length -- and then commands them like whips, using them to shred lightly armored targets like some sort of demented druidic lamia. If she's feeling especially low-key or angry, and immediate termination isn't required, she may just pour nature magic into the various harmful bacteria on or inside of a person's body... leaving them to fall victim to some of the most horrible diseases ever to befall mortalkind, artificially fueled by life - as the Dream does not discriminate. While usually one would consider elemental magic to be the sole property of shamans, they do not have a monopoly - druidism has more then a subtle foot in the pool of elementals. Aviana's followers often deal with air magic, calling gusts of wind and lightning to harass enemies. The Druids of the Flame are infamous for their assosciation with the Firelord, and the Druids of the Fin are often found coercing water to give themselves artificial currents and impair the movement of their enemies. Fylariea does not view the elemental magics as any different then a tool to be employed when necessary -- and has no qualms about using them in various ways to accomplish her goals. Moving even father away from traditional druidism, druids also hold some measure of control over the Light -- not the Holy Light of Creation, but Elune's Light, which is Light of sorts even if not what is traditionally considered to be Light by the more common wielders of such. In the same vein as Tauren Sunwalkers, druids can also call on the Light from An'she in the form of pseudo-solar magic. While druids do not technically have control over the Void, there is always a dark side to the moon -- and Fylariea does not fear the dark. While it is rare to see her employ either Light or Shadow in her arsenal, it is not unheard of and far from impossible. Known Associates and Relationships Glamonor Pureheart - Friend Gaerolas Talvethren - Father Deceased??? Garliegh Carlisle - Ex-courtier, friend. Keira Atterton - Ex-Mate Piper Loise Monroe - Budding Romantic Partner Alina Marhell and Ferial Darkwood -- First round of Thero'shans Ferlash Sutton and Myst Lastlead -- Second round of Thero'shans Ithalaine, Isoraen Nightstar, Skycaller Faeb - Shan'dos Prior Organizational Affiliations The Freemen of Azeroth - Expulsed Silver Rose Alliance - Left for personal reasons The Dragon's Candle - Left on good terms The Starbreeze Renaissance - Former leader, organization was dissolved. Embershield Protectorate - Left on good terms Kalnor'anaar - Fell out with E'nyssea The Order of Starbreeze - Matriarch OOC Information: Important! Read this, if nothing else. Informational and Image Sourcing Voice Claim: '' ''Nyandra Springbloom from Val'Sharrah Art and Visual References: Chibi Fyl! '' ''Complements of E'nyssea, author unknown. Fylariea Talvethren, '' ''by Strange Octopus. Complements of Nylannna [http://imgur.com/a/MStLs Renders of Fyl] by chill, complements of... chill. >.< Fyl's Bronze Choker. '' ''Charms not included. WoW Magic Web (Official Illustration) Fyl falls somewhere in between Nature and Arcane. Age Timeline for Kaldorei Maturing physically at twenty, they are mentally considered children till two hundred. Kaldorei Facial Tattoos and what they represent. Claws: Associated qualities: Meeting challenges head-on, bravery, ferocity, strength, speed, agility, stealth, hunting, cunning, tracking, pride, grace, intelligence, loyalty, feral, aggressive, predator. Claws are the symbol for an important animal within the Kaldorei society, the Nightsaber. Sabers are ferocious animals, feral and aggressive when leaving in the wild. Those tamed and befriended with the Kaldorei are however extremely loyal. Sabers are extremely good at hunting and tracking, in combat they are agile and swift. They are able to move around the forest unseen and silent. Hesitation is not something that suits this animal or the person who carries this symbol as tattoo. ''They face their problems and challenges head-on and are perhaps not considered to most patient person. They move with pride and grace, truly the ultimate hunter.''__FORCETOC____NEWSECTIONLINK__ __NOEDITSECTION__ Category:Characters Category:Night Elf Category:Druids Category:Moonglade Category:Druid of the Moon